


The One Who Says Goodnight

by darthjuno



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 19:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthjuno/pseuds/darthjuno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If it weren't for the full moons, he'd have forgotten there had ever been a time when running for his life was just another Tuesday night.</p><p>Sometimes he misses it, and then he smacks himself audibly on the head, startling a few of his classmates during study period. He shouldn't miss it. He shouldn't want the constant agony of not being able to protect himself or his friends, or the sleepless nights, or the bad grades, or his dad looking at him like he's a fucking axe murderer.</p><p>It takes him months to figure out what it was he was missing. One day after lacrosse practise, with the sun setting behind the treetops on the hill, he's picking up the equipment from the field and stacking it up next to the benches when it hits him.</p><p>"Stiles."</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Derek?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Who Says Goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this photoset](http://stelenskeh.tumblr.com/post/45737685647) and [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQA54SlXFRc).

He doesn't remember exactly when things went back to normal. But they did. One day, out of the blue, there were no more monsters. No more danger. No more witches or wendigos or wandering alphas or kanimas or mermaids or ghosts. Nothing at all. They all woke up one day and for once, all they had to worry about was school.

So they went to school. And Stiles put down his latin dictionaries and the old werewolf books he'd snuck out of the Beacon Hills library and picked up AP History and English. And he watched Scott and Isaac and Danny and Boyd as they breezed through all the lacrosse tournaments, straight through to the national finals without a single loss. And he took Lydia to homecoming, and to the spring fling, and at the end of the night he gave her a kiss on the cheek when he drove her home and watched her go through the gate and up the steps to her porch.

If it weren't for the full moons, he'd have forgotten there had ever been a time when running for his life was just another Tuesday night.

Sometimes he misses it, and then he smacks himself audibly on the head, startling a few of his classmates during study period. He shouldn't miss it. He shouldn't want the constant agony of not being able to protect himself or his friends, or the sleepless nights, or the bad grades, or his dad looking at him like he's a fucking axe murderer.

It takes him months to figure out what it was he was missing. One day after lacrosse practise, with the sun setting behind the treetops on the hill, he's picking up the equipment from the field and stacking it up next to the benches when it hits him.

"Stiles."

_Derek?_

He spins around comically fast, arms hanging about sans coordination, and sure enough, there he is. Black leather jacket, tight jeans, five o'clock shadow and the sternest scowl you'll ever see.

_Oh God, I've missed his face._

_Wait... what?  
_

"Uh," he manages, mouth hanging open for a few seconds. "Hi."

"I need you to look something up for me, quickly. I think there might be--"

"I'm not in the research business anymore, Derek," Stiles says, and he feels a little proud of himself for standing up tall and not letting his voice quiver. Fucking Derek Hale. "Haven't you heard? We're all normal high school kids now. Doing normal high school kid stuff." He holds up the lacrosse stick he has in his hand to drive the point across.

Derek purses his lips and takes a few steps closer. "I don't have time for your--"

"For my what? The minute we're in danger again you come to me for help, but when there's nothing it's like I don't exist." He scoffs and looks away because looking at Derek is proving to be a tad more difficult than he ever thought it would be. Turns out he missed _this._ He wants to smack himself really hard on the head _right now._

"Your temper tantrums," Derek says, stopping a few steps away from him. "I don't have time. Peter says there's something weird with the next full moon, but that was all he told me and I need to find out because we only have two days and--"

"You," Stiles says pointedly.

"What?"

" _You_ only have two days. _I_ have all the time in the world. I don't even _care_ about full moons anymore." A lie, which he's sure Derek can tell, but he doesn't care. He fidgets with the strings on the lacrosse stick, a nervous pang settling down his left arm. Why the hell did he have to show up now? Why show up at all?

And why did Stiles actually miss this?

"Right." Stiles swears he can see Derek make a tentative move forward, but then Derek backs away and turns his back. "Forget I asked," he calls over his shoulder, making his way across the field and toward the forest where he came from.

_Fucking hippy._

"Wait!"

Stiles isn't sure when it all happened, but he's crossed half the field and has just called out after Derek Hale, so it looks like his mind's made itself up for him. _Thanks for that_. _I was trying to save face._

Despite the spring weather having settled for good, Stiles can see his breath in the cold air, and Derek looks hazy through the little puff of white smoke. Stiles opens his mouth and the words come out on their own, like they have countless times before, in a time before all this peace and schoolwork made him and all his werewolf friends complacent.

"I'll have a look. Come around my house by eleven, I should have something."

Derek doesn't say anything. He nods tersely and turns back towards the forest, and Stiles is left in the middle of the field, lacrosse stick in hand, his eyes fixed on Derek's... ass.

_Oh God._

***

 

Eleven o'clock rolls by and there's a sharp rap on his window. _Like clockwork_ , Stiles thinks as he gets up to let Derek in. They're quiet as the werewolf climbs over the windowsill, and for a few moments after Stiles finds himself just... looking at Derek.

And Derek's looking back.

And nothing's being said.

"Right, um, the info is all here," Stiles says, jumping into hyperdrive as he scrambles for the papers he just printed off. He hands the stack to Derek, mouth still blabbering away.

"It's a Red Moon, which only happens once every thirty years when the moon is the closest to the Earth or something, and werewolves are closer to their wolf side." He lets a pause tick by before throwing in his personal commentary. "You might be able to turn full wolf sooner than you would with the meditation-y crap Peter's no doubt inflicting on you."

Derek looks up from the papers, locks eyes with Stiles, and nods.

Stiles smirks. "Of course he is. Well, next full moon should help speed things along," he says, gesturing to the pages in Derek's hand.

Derek's gaze falls back on the papers, and Stiles traces the movement of Derek's thumb across the paper, stroking to-and-fro next to a full colour picture of a red moon rising in the night sky. He bites his lower lip softly, for the first time becoming aware of the effect Derek's always had on him.

It's a lot to take in.

Derek looks up and his grip on the pages tightens as the frown on his face deepens. "Thanks for this," he says, and Stiles actually hears the cut-off phrase forming in the back of Derek's throat... but there's nothing.

A silence spreads between them, tense and loaded with months of absence, and for a few moments they just look at each other. Stiles' brain is screaming at him to _just say something_ , but--

"Goodnight," Derek says, and makes to leave the way he came.

"Hey," Stiles says softly just as Derek is hooking a leg outside his window. Derek looks back, eyebrows locked upward in curiosity; it makes Stiles smile.

"Don't be a stranger, okay? I know there's nothing threatening to kill us right now, but... don't just come to me when you need something." He pauses for effect. "I thought we were past that."

Derek looks at him for a couple of seconds. "We... are," he says finally, and then climbs out and down so fast Stiles doesn't even get to say "awesome".

He does, however, mutter _goodnight_ as he draws his window shut for the night, a smile lingering on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> For my new (and old!) [tumblr](http://stelenskeh.tumblr.com) followers, who bravely wait for fic updates that seldom come... I love you all. And I'm working on a _lot_ of things at the same time which is why I never seem to be able to finish a bloody chapter.
> 
> But all good things, yadda yadda :) Thank you for being patient with me.


End file.
